


The Eucaloris Tree

by BiffElderberry



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Belly Rubs, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, M/M, Monsterfucking, Other, Oviposition, Plants, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23745949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/pseuds/BiffElderberry
Summary: Jaskier shifted, shaking his foot as it caught on something. He would just have to harvest the next branch. If only he could get his foot free of the root he had caught it on.“That’s odd,” he said, looking down when he was unable to detach himself. The root was now wrapped around his ankle in a way that seemed extremely unnatural. He corked the vial, and stashed in a pocket, before leaning down to try to dislodge his foot. However, the root had no give. Something was wrong.He was about to call for Geralt when the root suddenly tugged. Jaskier screamed as he was knocked off balance and dragged towards the trunk of the tree.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Other(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 250
Collections: Unusual_Bearings_2020





	The Eucaloris Tree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MFLuder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MFLuder/gifts).



Jaskier muttered under his breath as he wandered through the forest around him looking for firewood. It was absolutely ridiculous in his opinion that they were even planning to spend the night out here.

They, and Jaskier very much included himself in this, after all where Geralt went he went, had been hired to harvest pollen from the Eucaloris tree. The sorcerer who hired them claimed the pollen of this special tree was used in a number of potions and their supplies had run out. Of course, the sorcerer would go get it himself, but he was much too busy. 

Geralt hadn’t seemed impressed, but when was he ever? 

And so the two of them had left town early in the morning. It wasn’t that far of a walk to where the sorcerer had said the tree was. The could easily have harvested it and made it back to town in time for a nice supper and a decent room in an inn. But yet, Geralt had declared they would stop there, and make camp, even though the sun hadn’t set. 

Jaskier stumbled through the undergrowth, dropping the pile of sticks he had managed to collect. He cursed under his breath as he bent to pick them up, freezing when he saw the tree before him. Sure enough, it was covered in blue flowers and hanging tendrils. It was the Eucaloris tree. 

Jaskier grinned to himself, surely he could go ahead and harvest it. There were so many flowers, it would take him no time at all to fill a tiny glass vial. Then the two of them could return to town. 

He whistled a fine tune as he approached the tree and began to pick the anthers off the flowers. Perhaps it would become a tune of how he himself had saved the day? Surely it would be his next big hit. 

He finished off the branch of flowers, but still, the vial wasn’t filled. He shifted, shaking his foot as it caught on something. He would just have to harvest the next branch. If only he could get his foot free of the root he had caught it on.

“That’s odd,” he said, looking down when he was unable to detach himself. The root was now wrapped around his ankle in a way that seemed extremely unnatural. He corked the vial, and stashed in a pocket, before leaning down to try to dislodge his foot. However, the root had no give. Something was wrong. 

He was about to call for Geralt when the root suddenly tugged. Jaskier screamed as he was knocked off balance and dragged towards the trunk of the tree. 

\---

Geralt looked up from where he was setting up their tent when he heard a ruckus from deeper in the forest. 

“Perfect,” he told Roach as he stood. “We won’t be out here for long after all.”

The eucaloris tree was a notorious beast, after all. Geralt had thought they would spend at least a week in the forest waiting for it to catch some prey- a fox, judging by the high pitched scream. How lucky was it that it managed to catch something the very night they came to harvest it. 

Geralt ensured he had his swords and a little glass vial to collect the pollen in before trekking into the woods. 

\---

Jaskier gasped as the tendrils writhed against his body. What had once seemed a solid unmoving tree was now a writhing mass of tendrils. They had secured Jaskier to the base of the tree, vines wrapped around his middle to hold him there as they worked him over. 

His once fine clothes now hung off his body, the tendrils having busted the seams as they explored Jaskier’s body. Now they snaked over his naked body pulling little gasps and groans from him as they found each sensitive spot. One particularly curious tendril slid between his legs, prodding his hole. 

Jaskier wouldn’t have objected, but the tree didn’t even buy him a drink first. 

“Geralt!” he gasped as he saw the white-haired witcher break through the forest. “Save me!” 

Geralt looked surprised at the situation the bard had found himself in, then he laughed. 

“It’s not funny-ah!” Jaskier said, breaking off in a gasp as the tendril slid into his hole. It had become slick through some natural secretion and had easily slid into his body. “Get me out of this thing!” 

“I can’t,” Geralt said. He pulled the vial from his pocket and began to pluck anthers from the flowers, carefully dropping them in. 

“What do you mean you can’t!?” Jaskier yelled, “Are those swords only for decoration?” 

Jaskier tried to rip at the vines holding him against the trunk, but several tendrils wrapped around him at once, tugging his wrists over his head and pinning them to the tree. 

“It’ll let you go once it’s done,” Geralt shrugged. “It’s just looking for a place to plant its seeds.” 

“I think it found it,” Jaskier muttered darkly as he felt a second tendril push at his rim. It forced its way in, drawing a gasp from him as it brushed past his prostate. The tree seemed to care little for his pleasure as it worked him open. Despite his protest, Jaskier was achingly hard. But the ridiculous tree did nothing to help him find relief. Each tendril that slithered over his body skirted carefully around his cock, giving him little to work with. 

“Some people pay a lot of money for those seeds,” Geralt shrugged, moving from the first low hanging branch to the next. “There was a lord nearby that was rumored to have one of these in his private gardens. His parties were legendary. I’m surprised you never heard of him.” 

Jaskier gasped as a third tendril pushed against his body. It felt like a bit too much too soon, but Jaskier has always enjoyed a little pain with his pleasure. He couldn’t help the moan that fell from his lips as the tendril pushed in. 

The three tendrils moved at varying rhythms, dragging a symphony of gasps and moans from Jaskier. Slowly they synced up, wrapping around each other, twisting into a solid form that thrust into the bard’s willing body. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier gasped, trying to get the witcher’s attention as he worked his way around the tree. “Geralt it’s pulling out, what’s it doing?” 

“Sewing it’s seeds,” Geralt shrugged. 

“I don’t like the sound of that!” Jaskier gasped. 

The tree creaked as it moved. Jaskier was shifted, dragged higher up the trunk till his toes no longer touched the ground. His eyes grew wide as he saw what he assumed was the seed pod. A large bulbous structure sticking up from the base of the tree.

Tendrils secreting that same slimy fluid brushed over the seed pod, making it glisten with slick.

“I think I need to bow out now,” Jaskier said, eyes wide as he looked at it. The tree, however, gave little care to his comfort. The vines holding him slide him lower down the trunk. 

More vines wrapped around his legs, holding him still and open as it lined him up with the tip of the pod. 

Jaskier gasped as the tree tugged him down on the pod There was little more resistance than the thin vines had been, but the tree was insistent. 

“Oh fuck, I can feel it,” Jaskier gasped as the pod slid into him. It felt significantly bigger than the tendrils had been. But Jaskier wasn’t a blushing virgin. He gasped for breath as he tried to relax. Slowly the painfulness of the stretch eased. Jaskier wasn’t sure when he had ever felt this full. Certainly not with any of his previous lover’s cock, and despite the monster of a cock Geralt possessed, it was not nearly this huge. 

Geralt looked at him with a cocked eyebrow as he plucked a few more anthers and dropped them in the vial. His eyes drifted over Jaskier’s body, to his flushed cock, then back up to his heaving chest as Jaskier gasped for breath. 

“You’re staring,” Jaskier said with a sly wink. He arched his back a little more as he felt the pod shifting inside him. If anything it felt bigger. 

“I always knew you were a bit of an exhibitionist,” Geralt chuckled. He corked the vial of pollen and slid it into his pocket. “Tell me about it then.” 

“I can feel it opening,” Jaskier gasped. “Oh god, it’s getting bigger.” 

“Can you feel the seeds?” Geralt asked, a little breathless as he stepped forward. 

“Yes,” Jaskier gasped. His back arched as he felt the first seed slide through the top of the pod. He could feel it sitting heavily in his gut. The tree didn’t give him much reprieve as the second seed popped through the top of the pod. 

It seemed endless. The tree continued to pump seeds into Jaskier’s body, filling him quickly. He groaned as his skin stretched to accommodate them. He could see his stomach poking out slightly, he almost looked pregnant.

“Geralt!-” Jaskier panicked as two vines slithered across his throat. He could feel them tightening, cutting off his breath as they secured him back to the tree. 

Geralt started forward but stopped when the vines loosened, just enough for Jaskier to breathe in deep. 

Jaskier jerked in his restraints as he felt a hand on his gut. He whimpered as Geralt stroked the skin there, gently, barely touching him just enough to feel the bumpy texture of the seeds filling him. Geralt pressed down slightly, pulling a gasp from Jaskier as the seeds shifted inside of him. 

Geralt got bolder as Jaskier didn’t shrink away from his move. His hand slid lower, cupping the base of Jaskier’s stomach that was just starting to strain with the seeds. Finally, his hand slid lower still, callused fingers gently circling the base of Jaskier’s cock. 

Jaskier groaned as Geralt sunk to his knees before him. He could feel the witcher’s warm breath against his cock and it was pure torture. He wanted nothing more than to thrust forward and claim the man’s mouth. But there was little he could do wrapped in vines. 

Geralt leaned forward and kissed the tip of Jaskier’s cock. Jaskier groaned as Geralt licked the head of his cock. He was so hard, he wasn’t going to be able to last long. 

Geralt seemed to make making Jaskier come his personal mission as he worked his tongue over the head of Jaskier’s cock, he drew little gasps from the bard as he worked, slowly taking more and more of his shaft into him. 

Jaskier gasped. He was so full it hurt. He looked very pregnant now, and the seeds were pressed against every sensitive spot inside of him. He couldn’t help the way his hips canted forward into Geralt’s warm mouth, and then back impaling himself on the pod. Every move made the seeds shift, sending sparks up his spine. He was so close. 

The vines around his throat tightened again in warning as Jaskier jerked in his bounds. It was almost like a warning like the tree thought Jaskier was trying to escape. But really, the lack of breath just drove him closer to the edge. 

Jaskier He groaned through his orgasm, a cut-off noise as the vines around his throats constricted harder. He slumped forward, as his energy left him. He was seeing little black spots in his vision from the lack of oxygen. He was barely aware of what was happening as his consciousness slipped from him. 

\---

“Fuck,” Geralt deadpanned when he looked up. He had allowed himself to get too distracted. Jaskier was boated with too many seeds, and yet the tree showed no signs of stopping. 

He should have seen the signs when he first approached. There were too many flowers, and Eucaloris trees never gave up a victim until they had sowed all their seeds. 

Geralt quickly drew his sword and slashed at the vines holding Jaskier. The tree shrieked, it branches swiping at Geralt, but Geralt was faster. He ducked out of the way, hacking through another vine as he went.    
  


He quickly managed to get Jaskier out of the vines. The bard slumped forward groaning slightly as Geralt caught him. Geralt half-dragged, half-carried Jaskier away from the tree. 

He only stopped once they were back at the campsite. He laid Jaskier down against one of their bedrolls, propping him up slightly. He examined the bard hesitantly. Jaskier didn't seem to have any permanent damage which was good, Geralt would never hear the end of it if he had actually allowed the bard to come to any harm. 

Still, though, Jaskier was bloated with seeds. Geralt couldn’t already hear the bard bemoaning the loss of his svelte figure. He would be insufferable for quite a while Geralt’ assumed. 

But there was at least one problem he could try to fix. He grabbed a waterskin and tumped it over Jaskier’s head, squeezing as much of the liquid out over the bard as he could.

Jaskier spluttered as he came to.

“What the hell?” he gasped, struggling to sit up. He rubbed at his face, clearing the water off, before his hand rested on his distended gut, eyes going wide.

“”Geralt?-” Jaskier started. 

“You’ll be fine,” Geralt cut him off. He barely looked at him as he went to one of their bags, and began digging around in it. 

“I’ll be fine?” Jaskier repeated, practically hysterical. “Is that all you have to say? Look at me! I am not fine! And I think we have bigger things to worry about than whatever it is you’re looking for-” his voice cut off as Geralt turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. Geralt was holding Jaskier’s vial of chamomile oil in his hand. 

“I thought you might be sore,” Geralt shrugged. He returned to the bard with a blanket in tow. He wrapped it around Jaskier’s shoulders. 

“May I?” Geralt asked, motioning to Jaskier’s stomach. 

“I suppose,” Jaskier replied, guarded. He watched as Geralt poured a little oil on his hands, smearing it across both of them. Once satisfied he began to work over Jaskier’s belly. 

“Fuck,” Jaskier groaned, the pain he hadn’t even been aware he felt was chased away buy Geralt’s fingers. His belly did ache, and he was tired, exhausted really. 

He reached up, stroking a hand against the witcher’s hair, dragging him in for a chaste kiss. 

“We could return to town today if you wish,” Geralt told him. 

“I don’t want to move,” Jaskier groaned. “How do we get the seeds out?” 

“Same way they came in,” Geralt replied. “If you want to get rid of them now, I can help as best I can. Or-”

“Or, what?” Jaskier asked eyes narrowed. 

“They are quite valuable,” Geralt said, with a shrug. “You may be able to sell them to the sorcerer. Or someone else interested in them. But they need time to develop first. Only a couple of days.” 

Jaskier couldn’t believe he was even considering keeping them inside of him like this. But- He had just lost a rather valuable outfit, and who would turn down a little extra coin? It could buy them a nicer room at an inn, or better ale, or a few more days off between quests. All luxuries that Jaskier would be very interested in experiencing. 

“Fine,” Jaskier replied with a yawn. “I’ll keep them for now, but only if you agree to more belly rubs in the future.” His eyes were already drifting shut. The calming smell of the chamomile lulled him. 

Geralt grunted in agreement. 

Perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing, Jaskier thought as he drifted off.


End file.
